The rest happens in sickening slow motion. My father struggles against Jax’s grip, his desperate pleas filling the room. Then the final push. The moment of suspension. The horrifying disappearance from frame.
All while Jax watches, his face a mask of cold indifference—the exact same expression he’s wearing now as he observes my breakdown.
Twelve years of guilt crash down around me. The therapy. The anger. The question that haunted me since that day: why did he leave us? The way Mom withered away, drowning her grief until she met Derek.
All of it built on a lie.
“You destroyed my family.” My voice sounds foreign, distant. “My mother died believing he killed himself. I spent my entire life wondering why he would abandon us.”
“Collateral damage.” Jax shrugs. “Your father wanted into the Vipers. I needed the position more. Business is business.”
I think of the cliff edge where I stood that day Hunter found me. How I’d been trying to understand what would drive my father to jump. The guilt I carried, thinking I should have seen the signs, should have somehow saved him.
“I believed he jumped.” The words scrape my throat. “I was so angry with him—” I choke on a sob. “I thought he chose to leave us.”
“And now you know.” Jax closes the video. “He didn’t.”
Something inside me shatters. The careful walls I’ve built around my grief for twelve years dissolve into white-hot rage. My vision narrows to Jax’s smirking face—the face of the man who murdered my father, who destroyed my family, who’s been tormenting my sister.
I launch myself at him without thinking. My nails rake across his cheek, drawing blood before he can react. I’m screaming—raw, animal sounds I didn’t know I could make. My fists pound against his chest, his face, anywhere I can reach.
“You killed him! You murdered my father!”
Jax’s momentary surprise fades quickly. He catches my wrists in one fluid motion, his strength making my furious struggle meaningless. I kick at him, connecting with his shin, but he barely flinches.
“There she is,” he says, almost admiringly. “That fire I’ve heard so much about.”
I spit in his face. The glob lands on his cheek, mixing with the blood from my scratches. His expression darkens for just a moment before returning to that calculated calm.
In one swift movement, he spins me around, pulling my back against his chest. His arm wraps around my throat—not choking, just restraining. I writhe against him, but it’s like fighting against steel cables.
“Careful now,” he murmurs into my ear. “We wouldn’t want to waste all that beautiful rage.”
I’m still struggling, tears streaming down my face, when he delivers the final blow.
His lips brush my ear as he whispers, “Hunter knew. He’s known ever since. He was there. And he never told you.”
My body goes limp in his grip. The words hit harder than any physical blow could.
“What?” My voice is barely audible.
“Your precious Hunter.” Jax’s voice is gentle now, almost kind. “He was there that day. A new Viper recruit who was watching his first execution. He’s known all along what really happened to Daddy.”
I go still in Jax’s grip, his words sucking all the fight from my body. Hunter knew. Hunter was there. Hunter watched my father die.
“That’s not true.” The words come out hollow, automatic.
Jax releases me, confident I’m no longer a threat. I stagger forward, falling to my knees on the concrete.
“It is true.” His voice carries a false sympathy that makes my stomach turn. “Your lover boy was being initiated that day, too. Watched the whole thing. Never said a word to you, did he?”
The room spins around me. I press my palms against the cold floor, trying to ground myself, but I’m falling, drowning, disappearing into a void where nothing makes sense anymore.
Hunter’s face appears in my mind. His intensity when he pulled me from that same cliff edge. The way he looked at me that first time. All this time, he knew.
Every touch. Every kiss. Every whispered promise.
Something inside me goes quiet. The rage, the grief, the betrayal—they’re still there, but distant now, like they belong to someone else. I feel myself retreating deeper inside to a dark, cold place where nothing can touch me.
